While we were small, one of the annual rituals my brother and I were put through on Christmas morning was that of visiting the neighbours with some Christmas goodies. Soon after returning from Mass, we were not permitted to take off our 'Sunday best'. We were then to begin a round of the neighbourhood (not all houses though) distributing snacks which Mummy had prepared earlier for the feast.
Somehow it was not something I enjoyed. I know not why but I felt odd, going to people's houses on the day of the feast, in all shining clothes. Neighbours, of course, would be delighted and in turn give us something to eat or take back home. But somehow the whole experience was not something I looked forward to.
Yesterday when I returned from Mass, I was wondering and laughing to myself if Chris and Anet are put through the same grill now!
Somehow it was not something I enjoyed. I know not why but I felt odd, going to people's houses on the day of the feast, in all shining clothes. Neighbours, of course, would be delighted and in turn give us something to eat or take back home. But somehow the whole experience was not something I looked forward to.
Yesterday when I returned from Mass, I was wondering and laughing to myself if Chris and Anet are put through the same grill now!
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